[ It had been put off as long as it could be. Longer than it should have been.
Chloe was shaking by the time she got to his floor, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the sleeves of her light sweater. The hallway lay out in front of her like the last two months; deceptively endless. The longer she walked, the further from any kind of truth she felt.
It was fairly late into the night; at least, by Chloe standards, though she knew Lucifer didn't exactly keep the same hours. Just thirty minutes ago she had been asleep, tossing around the bed in her stark apartment. It continued to be unfurnished as possible, although even Chloe wasn't sure if it was still out of respect, mourning, or pure pig-headedness. Chloe hadn't mentioned the nightmares to anyone; not even Seth, her closest confidant since she arrived, not Elena, certainly not Lucifer.
What would there be to tell? The vicious account of watching Klaus tear Lucifer's body from limb to limb every night, the way he yelled her name echoing in her ears, the smell and taste of his blood on her. It always ended in the room, the feather in her hand, it's ethereal glow hypnotic. It is almost as bright as the red reflecting in his eyes as his features shift, unclear in her mind and never quite actualized, but she can sense the change in the air, like pressure breaking before a storm. Only then she would awaken with a gasp in the darkness of her room, sweat clinging her clothes to her body and dotting her face.
Her conversation with Freya had been the breaking point, although it was the most recent dream that had launched her to action. Chloe had hoped when she cleared the air with Freya and Klaus the dreams would stop, but it took her too long to realize the dreams weren't about her new friends or the trauma of (unwitting, unintended) betrayals. What happened with the mirror was simply a catalyst for the festering doubt that had nestled in her since the moment she and Lucifer met, ignited when she healed Lucifer with the feather and believed, if just for a fleeting second, that he might be telling the truth.
For some reason, tonight's dream pissed her off as much as it scared her. Chloe was tired of the doubt and the games, tired of the lies by omission and most of all, she was tired of not trusting Lucifer anymore. She had meant what she said to Klaus - that she didn't think Lucifer cared about anyone but himself - but that didn't stop her from caring about him.
She had to get her answers before she could figure out how to move on. She had to find out if he was telling the truth, and why he hadn't proved it to her, why he hadn't protected her, why he left.
She had to know if she ever had a hope of getting a decent night's sleep again.
Lux was empty, no sign of Lucifer holding court around the piano as he often did. Chloe felt a wave of relief followed by her stomach tightening, as she realized he was probably upstairs which meant she couldn't use the atmosphere of the bar to distract from her true motivations for being there. She only had to hope he didn't have company, or hope he did, and lay yet more blame on him for the reasons she continued to distance herself from him.
Once she reached the penthouse she slipped in, clearing her throat as loudly as she could. ]
Lucifer? [ A pause, a breath. It was too late to turn back now. ] Are you here? We need to talk.
Penthouse, Early July
Chloe was shaking by the time she got to his floor, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the sleeves of her light sweater. The hallway lay out in front of her like the last two months; deceptively endless. The longer she walked, the further from any kind of truth she felt.
It was fairly late into the night; at least, by Chloe standards, though she knew Lucifer didn't exactly keep the same hours. Just thirty minutes ago she had been asleep, tossing around the bed in her stark apartment. It continued to be unfurnished as possible, although even Chloe wasn't sure if it was still out of respect, mourning, or pure pig-headedness. Chloe hadn't mentioned the nightmares to anyone; not even Seth, her closest confidant since she arrived, not Elena, certainly not Lucifer.
What would there be to tell? The vicious account of watching Klaus tear Lucifer's body from limb to limb every night, the way he yelled her name echoing in her ears, the smell and taste of his blood on her. It always ended in the room, the feather in her hand, it's ethereal glow hypnotic. It is almost as bright as the red reflecting in his eyes as his features shift, unclear in her mind and never quite actualized, but she can sense the change in the air, like pressure breaking before a storm. Only then she would awaken with a gasp in the darkness of her room, sweat clinging her clothes to her body and dotting her face.
Her conversation with Freya had been the breaking point, although it was the most recent dream that had launched her to action. Chloe had hoped when she cleared the air with Freya and Klaus the dreams would stop, but it took her too long to realize the dreams weren't about her new friends or the trauma of (unwitting, unintended) betrayals. What happened with the mirror was simply a catalyst for the festering doubt that had nestled in her since the moment she and Lucifer met, ignited when she healed Lucifer with the feather and believed, if just for a fleeting second, that he might be telling the truth.
For some reason, tonight's dream pissed her off as much as it scared her. Chloe was tired of the doubt and the games, tired of the lies by omission and most of all, she was tired of not trusting Lucifer anymore. She had meant what she said to Klaus - that she didn't think Lucifer cared about anyone but himself - but that didn't stop her from caring about him.
She had to get her answers before she could figure out how to move on. She had to find out if he was telling the truth, and why he hadn't proved it to her, why he hadn't protected her, why he left.
She had to know if she ever had a hope of getting a decent night's sleep again.
Lux was empty, no sign of Lucifer holding court around the piano as he often did. Chloe felt a wave of relief followed by her stomach tightening, as she realized he was probably upstairs which meant she couldn't use the atmosphere of the bar to distract from her true motivations for being there. She only had to hope he didn't have company, or hope he did, and lay yet more blame on him for the reasons she continued to distance herself from him.
Once she reached the penthouse she slipped in, clearing her throat as loudly as she could. ]
Lucifer? [ A pause, a breath. It was too late to turn back now. ] Are you here? We need to talk.